The Lone Ticket Attendant
The unexpected sound of presence from a place none of them had anticipated threw the entire group into confusion.
Startled by the eyes peering through the crack in the door, the Squad Leader shot to his feet.
"W-what the hell!"
In truth, it was what everyone wanted to say.
Behind the door that slowly creaked open stood a middle-aged man.
He scanned the group one by one with an awkward expression.
Then, cautiously, he spoke.
"By any chance..."
He trailed off, then seemed to change his mind and clamped his mouth shut.
This time, it was Han Jaejeong, standing there with a bewildered look, who asked.
"You were there the whole time?"
"Yes. I hid when I heard the gunshots."
Jaejeong eyed him closely.
He was wearing a ticket attendant's uniform.
Older than Jaejeong, but younger than Youngman.
Tall, with a protruding belly, but broad shoulders kept him from looking fat.
Above all, his wide, startled deer-like eyes made him seem harmless.
This was probably the man who'd sent the rescue signal the doctor had mentioned.
"Were you the one who sent that... rescue signal, sir?"
"Ah! Right. So you came after hearing it. I figured it wasn't a rescue team since there were women with you."
That must've been why he'd hesitated at first.
Then again, Minyoung, Anna, and Yeon-hui didn't exactly look like the type to be rescuing anyone.
Everyone nodded in agreement with his words.
Meanwhile, Jaejeong stepped closer and peered inside the rooftop structure.
The interior held only simple facilities and related items, just as expected.
So this ticket attendant had been here alone all this time?
"You by yourself, sir?"
"Ah..."
The ticket attendant trailed off out of habit, his face darkening.
His eyes held the weight of memories.
"There were a lot of us at first. We weren't stuck up here on the roof either. But after hunkering down in this massive station for months, running and hiding over and over... I ended up the only one left."
The group fell silent at his story.
They too had lost countless comrades along the way.
They understood all too well what his expression and gaze conveyed—what unsaid pains lingered behind his words.
Watching their reaction, he fetched several bags from inside the building.
"These all had owners once. We made a pact from the start: if death came, toss the bags to the survivors first."
"What's in 'em?"
Minyoung asked, her face full of pity.
"Food. Batteries, flashlights. Personal stuff here and there. But the big one is food. Survivors gotta keep surviving."
The ticket attendant unzipped all the bags.
Inside, cans of food were stacked layer upon layer.
"You all look like you came empty-handed—no food on you, right? Take these at least. Ladies, feel free to eat inside. It's cramped, so not everyone at once."
Was it the unearned kindness that felt off?
Or the fact that this food came at the cost of someone's death?
Despite their hunger, no one stepped forward right away.
That was when it happened.
Click!
The Squad Leader grabbed a can, pried the lid off with his dagger, and started chowing down with loud crunches.
Crunch! Crunch!
"Fuck me, they say even the Diamond Mountains are best after a meal—what a load of bullshit. What're you all waiting for? Eat up. Gotta eat to ride a train or a damn plane, right? Keep eyeing each other like that, and I'll polish 'em all off myself."
Seeing him, the group rushed forward almost as one, grabbing cans.
Rainwater poured in as soon as they opened them, but now wasn't the time to care.
Minyoung took the shivering Anna—with her dropping body temperature—inside with Yeon-hui.
In situations like this, men with superior physical strength outlasted women, no question.
Only then did the ticket attendant relax, loosening his tense facial muscles and leaning against the wall.
The rain had started to lighten up at some point.
Just then, as Jaejeong eyed the noticeably weakening downpour, the ticket attendant asked.
"But what did that soldier mean earlier about taking a train?"
"Oh, that..."
Jaejeong hesitated for a moment.
Judging by the attendant's reactions so far, he was probably expecting the group to take him back to a safe zone.
Jaejeong's face grew troubled.
He had no idea how to break it.
"I'll explain."
Youngman, reading the room, crossed his arms and stepped forward a few paces.
"To put it simply, the safe zone's gone."
"What?"
The ticket attendant's eyes bulged like they might pop out.
To the group, it was old news—but to a man barely scraping by on this rooftop, waiting for rescue, it hit like a thunderbolt.
"Th-then what do we do? Why'd you come here?"
One thought dominated his mind.
With the safe zone destroyed, why risk their lives to come all this way?
It made no sense.
"Hear it from him directly."
Judging his piece said, Youngman pointed at Jaejeong and stepped back.
Rubbing his fatigue-heavy forearms, Jaejeong turned to the attendant.
"You know how to drive a train, sir?"
"Yeah, I do... but why?"
Jaejeong cleared his throat, organizing his thoughts before answering.
From here on, the attendant and the group were vital allies to each other—full disclosure was key if they were traveling together.
"Our plan's to get out of Seoul. That's why we headed here. We weren't sure if the signal senders were alive, but it was our best shot. Even if no one was left, we'd have tried running the train somehow."
"I see. So where to after leaving Seoul?"
"Not sure yet. Rough idea: outskirts of some small rural village or town. That's why we need an engineer to drive."
"Ha, got it."
The attendant took it more calmly than expected, but his shocked expression—and hint of disappointment—were plain.
Anyone would feel that way.
The memories of survival he'd clung to here were his and his comrades' alone.
Enduring solo was to honor their sacrifices.
But if it led not to safety, but another gamble? No wonder the reaction.
Still, alive meant moving—that was reality.
"Plan sounds solid. Problem's breaking through those things to the train. Got a good way? Sounded like you were gonna blow something up."
Recalling what he'd overheard through the door, the attendant asked.
Jaejeong pointed to the tank lorry at the intersection.
"Oh, right. That might work."
"It has to."
With that, Jaejeong and Youngman moved to the rooftop edge.
It was a crucial moment; the scattered group held their breath, watching.
Bang! Bang!
Each fired a shot.
Testing range for accuracy.
"Got it?"
Youngman glanced over once he'd dialed it in; Jaejeong nodded.
"Let's start."
The two muzzles flashed side by side.
Bullets hammered into the tank lorry at the intersection.
One that grazed pierced the exterior; friction with the leaking gas ignited a massive fireball in an instant.
Boom! Boom-boom!
Debris flew like trash; nearby cars, lights, and trees toppled in chain reactions.
With the rain weakened, the blast echoed far and wide.
Zombie hordes surged from every direction immediately.
From up high, it was a scale no CGI could match.
Every road and alley in the neatly gridded city teemed with black lines of zombies charging like demons.
Gulp.
Watching them pour out like roaches, the ticket attendant swallowed dryly.
Chills from this distance—mere illusion?
Reaction stirred inside the station too.
Zombies from the interior, platforms, and depot flooded into the streets.
Water Balloons appeared sporadically; one veered mid-charge, circling instead.
Zombies around it halted their run, following suit.
No knowing how they spawned, but stops at chokepoints spelled trouble for the group.
Jaejeong, rifle slung over his shoulder, scanned the group.
"Let's move. Drag it out longer, and we're the ones screwed."
"What's that thing? Infected too?"
The attendant, descending stairs behind Jaejeong, pointed at a Water Balloon.
Hyun-su—the one who'd childishly yet aptly named them—followed, explaining.
"Yep. The fat one's called a Water Balloon. Sounds silly, but calling enemies vaguely is bad luck, so we slapped that on quick. No better name fits—looks just like one, right?"
Hyun-su detailed Crazy Moms too.
The attendant's face shifted in real time as the tale unfolded.
Truth was, his stance boiled down to this:
Strangers demanding he drive a train out of Seoul, no solid plan.
Yet he went along because they'd made it here—from the fallen safe zone, the sole survivors—and some radiated an extraordinary aura.
Life experience lets you sense a person's vibe.
To him, a few stood out from civilians—especially Jaejeong's rare Western-scale build and Youngman's palpable intensity.
If they'd been at the station instead of the safe zone, he'd bet he wouldn't have survived alone.
As Jaejeong listened to Hyun-su's chatter, one thought surfaced.
About the zombies on the skybridge.
They'd been dead, no doubt.
Not inspected head to toe, but utterly still.
Yet halfway across, they rose in unison—like it was planned.
As if with intent.
"Got a question."
Deep in thought, Jaejeong asked the attendant close behind.
"Sure."
"The skybridge on the second floor had barricades like a military post. Soldiers there?"
"Not at the start of the outbreak. But as troops poured into Seoul, fights broke out everywhere. Soldiers at the station were escapees merging with other units."
"Decent numbers, then."
"Yeah. Plenty of ammo, food not short."
"How'd it go south?"
Jaejeong's face showed incomprehension.
With numbers and supplies, they could've held a floor, if not the whole station.
"Might not believe me, but... plan was to fortify the skybridge, lure zombies from the opposite concourse, and take 'em out. Worked at first. Trouble hit crossing to the other side."
Pausing on the stairs to catch his breath, the attendant continued.
"Floor covered in bodies—thought someone had cleared zombies. But they weren't bodies. The 'dead' ones rose like a net closing in... If we'd been fewer, we'd have run. But too many of us—no telling who got bit. And they all targeted legs—total chaos."
Jaejeong nodded.
Confirmation: new zombie mutation.
Not just the group's experience—others had faced it too.
Zombies playing dead, ambushing when prey was encircled.
Infected